A Familiar Yet Exciting 'Trek'

by Brett Parker

When it comes to being a Star Trek fan, I’ve considered myself more on the casual side for most of my life.  By that I mean whenever old Star Trek movies came on TV as a kid, I would watch attentively and enjoy them on a simple-minded level.  But ever since I witnessed J.J. Abrams’ reboot of the franchise back in 2009, I’ve considered becoming a Trekkie full time.  Abrams took the beloved original characters and their space adventures and pumped them up to new levels of slickness and emotion.  Every ounce of likeability and excitement lurking beneath the cheesier and lumpier parts of the mythology were drummed up and punched to full throttle.  That tight thrill ride made you willing to follow the crew of the Starship Enterprise anywhere they went and you couldn’t wait to get beamed up for another adventure.

Well Captain Kirk and his crew are back in action once again in Star Trek Into Darkness and there’s no denying that the sequel delivers the roller coaster goods we want from a sci-fi adventure.  But I’m slightly disheartened to realize that this latest installment doesn’t do anything terribly original or provocative with the Star Trek universe.  To be sure, this is one of the best-looking and most adrenaline-fueled films in the canon, but it’s still bound to overly-familiar elements from the series’ past.  Lord knows my love for the newfound electricity Abrams jolted into the franchise hasn’t been diminished, but part of me wonders if this series can ever elevate from a fun pop ride towards transcendent science fiction.

The sequel continues the adventures of the USS Enterprise, a futuristic crew of space explorers who serve on an intergalactic peace-keeping federation known as Starfleet.  At the head of the crew is the cocky Captain Kirk (Chris Pine) who is joined by the logic-minded Vulcan Mr. Spock (Zachary Quinto), the cynical Dr. McCoy (Karl Urban), the linguistics expert Uhura (Zoe Saldana), whiz kid Chekov (Anton Yelchin) and engineering expert Scotty (Simon Pegg) as they intervene in alien races across the galaxy to maintain a code of order.  But that order is dangerously shaken up with the appearance of an evil terrorist who calls himself John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch).  Harrison terrorizes Starfleet on Earth by bombing one of its buildings in London and then attempting to kill all its leaders in San Francisco.  Escaping to an enemy planet in a forbidden section of the galaxy, Kirk wants to pursue Harrison with his ship and bring him to justice.  But the Enterprise crew soon learn that Harrison is not all he appears to be, and may be more sadistic and deadly then they could possibly imagine.  Their mission to stop this violent madmen will challenge everything they know and push their psychologies to dark places they haven’t gone before.  

Screenwriters Robert Orci, Alex Kurtzman, and Damon Lindelof do an efficient job of pushing the crew of the Enterprise out of their comfort zone and into a relentless scenario of breakneck danger.  Although most of the action sequences remind us of perils from past Star Trek flicks, Abrams films them with head-spinning velocity and spacious exuberance.  Sequences that especially stick out is one where Kirk and Harrison are rocketing their way towards an enemy craft in speedy spacesuits and one where Kirk and Scotty race to keep their balance in a ship that’s crumbling under massive attack.  You really do get lost in these action scenes and it really does provide the thrill of why seeing a space adventure on the big screen can be so much fun.

Devoted Trekkies and casual sci-fi fans will discover that the script is bound to a prominent chapter in the Star Trek universe that I suppose the new series had to acknowledge in the same way Christopher Nolan’s Batman had to acknowledge The Joker.  Yet I wish Abrams had pushed the sequel towards new ideas and new challenges instead of more or less following a blueprint from the mythology’s past.  This causes the best moments here to play out as homages instead of fresh drama that carves out its own identity.  The best thing to come out of this development is Benedict Cumberbatch, the ace thespian who blasts an Old Vic grandeur into a cartoon villain (his predecessor here pulled off the same feat quite superbly).

If the “Darkness” in the title makes you frown at the idea of yet another beloved franchise being injected with today’s standards of solemn edge and raw grit, then blame the era we’re living in, not the filmmakers.  Gene Roddenberry created the original characters in an era where people felt more optimistic about a future filled with hope, idealism, and prosperity.  But in the present day, it’s hard to deny that such qualities have taken a serious blow in the real world arena.  Brutal terrorism, government duplicity, and corruption among those we trust are flooding our headlines today, so I’m not the least bit surprised to see them show up in this movie’s plot.  We certainly want a bright, shiny Star Trek world for ourselves, but like the crew of the Enterprise, we too have to overcome some very scary demons.  It may be jarring to see a rage-filled Spock here slam a guy’s head into the backside of a metal ship, but let’s face it: pretty much everyone’s human side can relate to such anger these days.  Yet the silver lining here is the same it’s been in perhaps every Star Trek movie ever made: that self-preserved resourcefulness combined with efficient teamwork can overcome any dark opposition.  

We should consider ourselves lucky that we have such talented actors to bring such a winning intergalactic team to life.  The remarkable thing about this reboot is how the mythic gravity of the character’s personalities have proven to be more exciting than the special effects.  This is especially felt through Kirk and Spock, whose unlikely bromance energize the true heart and soul lying beneath the outer space talk.  Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto are given more room here to build on their pitch-perfect embodiments of the legendary figures, and their dance between reckless intuition and cool-headed logic brings a serious emotional charge to this popcorn ride.  What’s especially impressive is the way the duo recreates the most touching moment in the entire Star Trek series (although re-imagined with a wicked, ingenious reversal) and completely own it.

Although there’s a stretch where you suspect the next installment in this series might be called The Search For Kirk, the film’s end finds our beloved heroes looking towards their next mission filled with hope, excitement, and confidence.  And it’s a testament to this movie that you look forward to the next sequel with the same ideals.  You just hope that next time the crew boldly goes where no Star Trek movie has gone before.  And that Abrams stays focused.  Of course the big news with him is that he’s been selected to direct the brand new Star Wars film planning to be rolled out around 2015.  Although I feel indifferent about one man overseeing two opposing sci-fi franchises, a new Star Wars movie really should have extra doses of charisma and heart, and those are two things Abrams dishes out in his Star Trek films with expert glee.  

The Most Entertaining 'Gatsby' Yet

by Brett Parker

Whether or not you’ll get enjoyment out of the latest cinematic adaptation of The Great Gatsby probably hinges on whether or not you find director Baz Luhrmann to be an exhilarating visionary or a deranged lunatic.  His knack for giving old world tales an immediate contemporary energy and over-the-top glamour can either be seen as gloriously romantic or desperately shallow.  As for myself, I’ve always been a big fan of his grand style.  I was fascinated by the startling edge he brought to romantic tragedy in Romeo & Juliet and surprisingly floored by the candy-coated operatic emotions of Moulin Rouge.

Yet deep down, even Luhrmann’s biggest detractors have to concede that a Great Gatsby adaptation in his outsized hands is just what the cinematic doctor ordered for that story.  Past adaptations of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s legendary work have either been paralyzed by a scripture-like devotion to the source material (the sluggish 1974 version starring Robert Redford) or laughable in its loose liberties (the 1949 version, which owes more to Al Capone than to Scott Fitzgerald).  Since past versions have proven to be vapid in hindsight, it wouldn’t hurt to see Luhrmann infuse his beautiful decorating and swing-for-the-fences melodrama with the classic.  And I must confess that this is undoubtedly the most entertaining and gripping movie version of the novel we’ve had yet.

For those of you that flunked out of high school English, I’ll offer a brief recap of the plot:  an ambitious Yale graduate named Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) travels from the midwest to New York in the summer of 1922 to seek a prosperous career in bonds.  In the blue-blooded village of West Egg on Long Island, he catches up with his beautiful cousin, Daisy (Carey Mulligan) who is married to old money millionaire Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton).  While dining in their elegant mansion and accompanying Tom on a booze-soaked rendezvous in the city, Nick starts to get a taste of the rich excesses and loose morals associated with the era now known as the “roaring 20’s.”

But Nick doesn’t get truly up-close-and-personal with the grandness of the Jazz Age until he gets invited to a gargantuan house party thrown by his neighbor, Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio).  Gatsby is a mysterious millionaire who throws the wildest parties at his gigantic mansion for the entire New York social scene weekend after noisy weekend.  An articulate gentleman decked out in the most dapper styles, no one can really pin down Gatsby’s backstory, especially where he gets the money to throw such ridiculous parties.  As Nick tries to get acquainted with his new neighbor, it becomes clear that the mystery man holds a curious history with Daisy and has a burning obsession with her that’s fueling a elaborate romantic plot in his head.  As Gatsby tries to reconcile with and romanticize Daisy with Nick’s help, things shockingly careen from care-free exuberance to soul-crushing tragedy.  

There are those that hold Fitzgerald’s novel in holy revere as one of the greatest in all American literature, and I happen to be one of those people.  I went gaga for the book when I discovered it in high school and I’ve read it once a year ever since I was sixteen.  So believe me, no one went to see this movie with a bigger red pen than myself.  But I honestly found very little to object to.  I appreciated the way Luhrmann threw subtlety into the fire and allowed the screen to lose itself in the rabid excitement and overwhelming emotions one feels when reading the novel for the first time.  Luhrmann’s taste for dizzying hyperrealities actually suits the wild, gorgeous energy of the roaring 20’s quite well: the outfits pop with dandified colors, the lavish New York landscape has the beauty of an old world painting, and the party scenes have a reckless abandon that’s as intoxicating as the booze being consumed.  One of the unspoken truths about the novel is that if it weren’t for Fitzgerald’s elegant prose and keen insights, the plot itself would slightly resemble a soap opera.  And since Luhrmann’s calling card is making soap opera stories vibrant and lyrical, you realize he does more to assist Fitzgerald’s ideas than to harm them.  

The only two things I really have to complain about, oddly, have to do with hip-hop and historical atmosphere.  Like Moulin Rouge, Luhrmann anachronistically employs modern day songs to help contemporary audiences feel the thrill that people of a past era felt when listening to their own music.  Songs by Lana Del Rey and Florence & The Machine fit wonderfully into the narrative, and I was surprised by the way an electric dance track by Fergie helped energize a infectious party scene at Gatsby’s mansion.  But tracks featuring Jay-Z prove to be a jarring mistake.  I love Jay-Z’s music, but proclaiming his songs as being in-sync with the Jazz Age is a hell of a stretch.  It sounds as if the New Jack City soundtrack has been played over random scenes in Gone With the Wind.  Such an incongruity makes one also ponder if the atmosphere itself is a tad too cartoonish for its own good.  While the world we see is certainly an enticing fever dream of the 1920’s, it’s not exactly a recognizable part of America’s historical reality.  

But these really are just minor complaints, for whatever lumpiness the film runs into, there are wonderful performances here to guide you through.  DiCaprio is quite honestly the best Gatsby there’s ever been.  He’s polished up his sunny matinee idol looks to superbly heat up Gatsby’s shiny exterior, yet it’s the actor’s experience in playing isolated eccentrics and riled-up obsessives that bring acute urgency to the character’s decidedly disturbing inner-life.  Mulligan makes for a wonderful Daisy by shrewdly allowing her fragility to simultaneously suggest a delicate beauty and spoiled child.  Edgerton displays the correct physical presence and brutish confidence to convey Tom Buchanan’s assured arrogance.  And I was surprised at how much power and feeling an ideally cast Maguire blasts into Nick Carraway.  If the narrator of this tale proved to be too timid and passive in past adaptations, then it’s refreshing to see Maguire exposing the fraught nerves and curious heartache within a man forced to witness the moral decay surrounding him.  

Literary purists can rest easy knowing that Fitzgerald’s novel is too towering to be hindered by the efficiency or incompetence of a filmed adaptation. While Fitzgerald in his lifetime had certain reservations about the art of film, and would undoubtedly shake his head at certain passages in this adaptation, I think he would’ve marveled at the extravagant shrine Luhrmann built to his words and been overall happy to see that his thoughts about modernity are still honored in these modern times.  As a true lover of the novel, it’s rather hard not to get seduced by Luhrmann’s gaga love for the era and material, and as a cinephile, it’s hard not to get caught up in such an outrageous explosion of vintage sights and sounds.